


the light behind your eyes

by onestepatatime32



Category: Romeo & Juliet - Takarazuka Revue, Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types, Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: Grief/Mourning, M/M, Post-Canon, References to Major Character Death, Short drabble I guess, it IS romeo and juliet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:48:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29957067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onestepatatime32/pseuds/onestepatatime32
Summary: Benvolio worried about his friends, especially Mercutio.
Relationships: Mercutio/Benvolio Montague
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	the light behind your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh no real excuse for this one, i just watched the B cast recording of the 2021 Takarazuka production of RetJ and got super sad. Don't look up the song the title is from unless you want to feel miserable.

Benvolio didn’t know when he picked up the habit. Probably, it had been somewhere around when he was fifteen and Romeo and Mercutio two years younger. Mercutio’s habit of wandering at night when he couldn’t sleep was beginning to lead to black eyes and scratches, and every report of danger on the streets made Benvolio feel like crawling out of his skin. One night Mercutio had risen to leave the quiet parlor of the Montague villa and Benvolio had squeezed his eyes shut for a moment in frustration before stumbling to his feet and placing himself between Mercutio and the door.

“Don’t. Not tonight. I’ll stay up if you need someone, but don’t.”

He had held his breath, waiting for the younger boy to lash out, but the rage never came. Instead, Mercutio had run a harried hand through his hair and sat down dejectedly, leaning quietly against Benvolio in the dark.

Nights like that had increased with the years just as troubles did. At some point, Romeo had begun to sporadically join the sleepless vigils, though often on nights Mercutio slept. Benvolio tried not to consider too hard what would drive even his kind, hopeful cousin to such a point. Verona itself was answer enough.

A week ago, Mercutio had sat trembling against Benvolio’s back for hours after the Capulet ball. He knew something was uncharacteristically wrong, but he also knew better than to prod. Mercutio’s mind was a maze of brokenness and griefs that burned like wildfires. Asking what was wrong outright would make him withdraw. Benvolio had taken his hand absently as they sat; a scarred, weathered hand that felt much older than its owner’s 15 years. He wished he could erase the weight of the past agonies mapped on that hand with a touch, a kiss, a word, but he knew enough of life in Verona to know that pain was woven into the very fabric of every street and every pair of hands that dwelled there. Mercutio’s mind was far away, and nothing Benvolio offered could heal the kinds of wounds he nursed.

Romeo had not come home that night. It had worried Benvolio then, but he had shrugged it off. He couldn’t help but curse himself for it now. _Years_ he’d spent carefully watching over his best friends’ sleepless nights, and here, of all places, was where he had failed.

Benvolio rose from the dew-laced ground and let the hollow in his stomach seep into his throat. Light was beginning to crawl over the horizon and make the name written across the headstone he’d been sitting against stark in the fresh light.

Not that Benvolio didn’t know full well what it said. He would know it after a thousand years.

“S' alright, Mercutio. I’ll be back again tomorrow night.”


End file.
